Square Pegs and Round Pegs

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked. He spoke the question more out of habit than a desire to know the answer. Angry, abusive, and avoidant parents had severely stunted his emotional competence. He wondered what Rose was doing.

Erin closed her eyes, cringing as Caleb’s sentence grated into her ears. She hated that question. It was loaded and meaningless, like an arrow shot straight up into the air. Dangerous, because anyone or thing could be the unwitting target. She knew he didn’t want any real answers from her. His eyes never lied. Seven years had taught her that much.

“Nothing Caleb. I’m just sitting on a closet floor folding laundry,” she glanced up into his eyes, desperate to be seen. She hated herself for it.

Just. She was never just doing anything. Seven years had taught him that much.

“I can tell something’s off. I feel you rage folding all the way from the kitchen,” Caleb looked down at Erin. She was half turned away from him, her colorful tattooed backpiece peeking around her shoulders at him every time she reached forward to set another item on another pile. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun, exposing her delicate neck. His jaw twinged and saliva filled his mouth as he imagined biting into her flesh. Even from where he stood, she smelled amazing.

“Caleb, I don’t know why you ask me that question. You don’t care what’s wrong, you never have. That question just sets us up for an exhausting, pointless argument,” Erin’s chest ached as she folded through her words. Years of venomous arguments had left her feeling a deep tiredness that she worried she would never recover from. The endless cortisol she’d endured throughout her lifetime had also left her with an undiagnosed autoimmune disease, but medicine was only just on the cusp of that revelation, so she folded and argued on, unknowing, but not entirely unaware of the damage being inflicted silently onto her body.

“I thought the therapist said we weren’t supposed to use words like always and never? Now what’s wrong?” Caleb said, unaware of how aggressive his voice had become. His ancient feelings of resentment wormed their way into the conversation leaving Caleb none the wiser. If what was wrong was a snake it would have consumed him wholly and slowly, so slowly it somehow still would have left room for him to doubt that he’d been eaten.

Erin sighed, already drained. She’d felt the problems for a long time, but still lacked the words and knowledge needed to convey them to a man that had yet to develop the capacity to absorb them properly. Even if she did possess the tools needed to properly communicate the attempt would be something akin to shoving a square peg through a round hole. It would solve nothing and leave them both frustrated. Erin pulled out her square peg.

“What were you doing in the kitchen?” Erin asked. She could already see the outcome of her efforts.

“What?” Caleb said, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation.

“The kitchen. What were you doing?” It didn’t matter what he was doing.

“I made me a sandwich.” He felt trapped.

“Did you clean it before you made the sandwich?” Pointless.

“No.” He braced himself.

“Did you clean it after you made your sandwich?” Erin jabbed her square peg at the round hole.

“No.” Caleb covered the hole.

“Did you think about cleaning it at any point in time today?” She handed her square peg to Caleb.

“No, you didn’t ask me to.” He dropped it.

“I shouldn’t have to ask you. You’re a grown adult with two hands and a functioning brain who would have to clean his own kitchen if he lived alone so why do you expect me to ask you?” Erin should have been a fortune teller.

“That’s what’s wrong, I didn’t clean the kitchen?” Caleb hands Erin his round peg.

“It’s the kitchen, it’s the laundry, it’s all of it. Everything just defaults to me to manage and task out, and it’s unbelievably frustrating.” She takes it and it turns into a square peg.

“Okay, I’ll go clean the kitchen then. Christ, all you had to do was ask.” He sets his remaining pegs and holes on fire.

“I shouldn’t have to ask!” Erin sharpens the transformed peg.

“Do you want me to clean the kitchen or not?” Caleb bares his chest.

“It’s not about the kitchen!” Erin takes aim.

“Then what is wrong?!” Caleb waits.

“Are you having an affair?” Erin’s voice cracked with emotion. She holds the wooden spike tightly.

“What?” Caleb deflates.

“You’ve been distant, cold even. You’re a thousand miles away when you sit next to me. I can tell something is going on, so who is she?” Erin holds her sharpened peg against Caleb’s heart.

“You think I’m cheating on you?” Caleb waits.

“Yes, I do,” Erin stared into his eyes, unblinking. Her wooden square peg now sharpened at both ends, pressed firmly against both their hearts.

“Are you cheating on me?” Caleb waits.

“What?!” Erin waits.

“People that accuse their partner of having an affair are often having one themselves. So, are you?” The sharpened peg falters between them.

“That’s ridiculous, Caleb. By that logic, you just accused me so that would confirm you’re cheating.” The peg is now confused.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” There is no peg.

“You haven’t answered mine!” There never was.

Erin and Caleb existed in silence for just over one minute. As adrenaline pulsed through them both, Erin couldn’t help but feel pulled in by Caleb. His arms were crossed against his chest, detailing his muscles in the specific way that gripped her at the hips and ached deeply. It annoyed her immensely, but she would be the first to admit how perfectly they curved into one another while they made love. Caleb would be the second.

“I’m not having an affair, Erin,” Caleb’s voice was calm and deep, “You drive me nuts and sometimes I feel like I’m banging my head against a mountain, but no, I’m not cheating on you.” He wasn’t.

Erin inhaled a shaky breath as her adrenaline waned, “I’m not either.” She wasn’t. “You know I never would.” She would, but Caleb would forgive her.

“And I never would.” He would. Twice. Erin would make his death quick and mostly painless.

“I’m just tired and feel like I manage this house alone. It’s a lot,” Erin sank into herself, her undiagnosed autoimmune disease ravaging her bit by bit.

“Come here,” Caleb extended a hand towards Erin. She accepted and he pulled her up and into an embrace, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been doing my fair share or even thinking about it and that’s not ok. I’ll do better, I promise.” He wouldn’t, not really.

His warm embrace soothed her tense muscles. His broad shoulders and thick strong arms always held her with such assuring tenderness. He loved her as much as a traumatized, emotionally stunted man could love anyone and she felt the sad truth of that in every embrace.

“How’re things going with Rose?” Erin spoke into Caleb’s chest.

“Good. I’m almost done planting the evidence. I don’t think she suspects anything. I’m taking her to dinner tomorrow. Afterwards I’ll satiate her right into dreamland and make a copy of her keycard while she sleeps me off. I’ll wipe my burner of prints and lose it in the river on my way back to you,” he rubbed her back delicately as he spoke, “We’ll be ready to hit the bank next week.”

“Right on schedule. Perfect,” she glanced up into his eyes, “I love it when you’re on time.”

“What about the security guard?” Caleb leaned down, planting a kiss firmly on her parted lips.

“He’s been eating out of my hand for weeks,” Erin spoke into his mouth, “I’ll make sure he’s a no call, no show that morning.”

“That’s my girl,” he gently bit into the flesh of her neck. The twinge in his jaw finally relented.

All thoughts of poor unsuspecting Rose and Jordan, the security guard dissolved from both of their minds.